It was all too familiar.

Their conversation flowed — it fit like a glove,

instantly bringing back all the memories and love.

She knew she would never meet anyone like him.

And the chances of him coming back were slim.

He knew she still had his heart in her hands

along with the power to snap it like a band.

They’d been there before, all young and carefree,

until doubt and insecurity stepped up to the tee.

She threw everything away like yesterday’s trash

wishing years later she could take it all back.

Who were they kidding, would this actually work?

If he gave her his heart, would it end up in dirt?

As if on eggshells they tiptoed around

knowing a misstep would shatter the ground.

So they stayed in their bubble, just passing through,

she had matured and come to the truth

of who she was and what she now wanted

not like before with unfaithfulness flaunted.

But just her alone could not make it work,

she needed to see if the distrust would shirk.

It came to a matter of love and second chances,

the head and the heart doing delicate dances.

Which one would win, was it simply not right?

If this was it, she’d have to hold on tight.

Enough is enough — it was time for hard truth.

One way or another, they can’t always blame youth.

She’s ready to commit, her heart’s on the line.

He can’t bring himself to pretend it’s all fine.

He knows what he wants, but just can’t commit.

Each time he sees her it’s like one swift hit.

That moment she told him, straight to the gut.

The door can’t stay open, he needs it to shut.

He imagines how great they would be together.

There she stands, grown and ready to weather

whatever life threw at them, easily deflected.

Things could work out exactly as expected.

But, as with life, it’s all too good to be true.

Everything comes crashing down as if on cue.

The paralyzing fear, the hurt rushing in

his willingness to try growing dangerously thin.

His heart screams yes, his head yells don’t fly.

Believing this would work again was a lie.

It was over — as quickly as it came, it dwindled.

A flicker of hope, never again to be rekindled.

Well, that’s that, it was time to move on.

Neither could count this breakup as won.

Both parties had lost, unable to follow their hearts.

The only thing left was to permanently part.

Chalk it up to bad timing or destiny or fate.

In past versus future, the optimism was late.

He knew he would never meet anyone like her.

When playing with fire, it always ends with a burn.

He knew he still had her heart in his hands

along with the power to snap it like a band.

Their conversation ended — broken and destroyed

instantly bringing back the heartbreak and void.

It was all too familiar.

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